Hands
by Befham
Summary: 'It doesn't matter about the black box or Amanda or Division in that moment. Michael is back, and that is all that matters.' Set after 3x16.


**Spoilers for Season 3. Please do not read if you haven't seen it yet!**

**It's been a while since I've wrote anything thanks to my new job so I'm a little rusty. I'm still grieving with the fact that Nikita only has a 6 episode season 4, but this was just begging to be written. All mistakes are my own.**

**Enjoy.**

**This is set sometime after 3x16 after Michael get's his hand back.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Nikita, and I sadly do not own Michael. **

* * *

He hasn't touched her like this in months.

"You're so beautiful," Michael whispers against her mouth. His voice is rough and needy and it causes a heat deep inside Nikita's belly that has been absent for a long time. One of her hands come up to fist his short hair as he continues his rough kisses. After months of uncertainty, months of questioning if he would ever forgive her or if he still wanted to be with her, this was paradise. She tugs off his tie impatiently and strips him until his strong chest is bare. Her fingers almost shake as she touches his skin.

Michael strips her from her dress and soon she is bare to him. She starts to feel uncomfortable as his steely gaze penetrates her skin, but she firmly reminds herself that this is _Michael_ and she is being completely ridiculous. He smiles at her. Not the bland smile that he gives Division agents and not the warm smile that he gives their friends. The smile that he saves only for her. It has been so long since she has seen him this happy, and it makes her heart beat faster in excitement.

Nikita grabs his hand, his new hand, and she almost can't believe that she is able to do so, and leads him to their bed. She sits at the edge and pulls Michael down to kneel before her. It's a position almost identical to the one when they first kissed all of those years ago when she was so in love with him but he was so unavailable. Nikita frames his face in her hands and presses her lips to his gently.

The hand that glides up her bare thigh is tentative in its moves and causes her to shiver. It almost breaks her heart to see Michael, a man who is always so confident in his actions, so unsure of himself. She presses her mouth against his harder, trying to reassure him that everything is right in the world once again. "It's okay, baby," Nikita whispers, against his mouth when she senses his nerves. "It's just me and you." Her words seem to inspire him as Michael hooks his fingers in the waistband of her panties and slides the black lace from her. Nikita lies down on the bed and pulls Michael down with her.

She's missed this.

Missed him.

His fingers move over her flesh tentatively at first, as though he is surprised that he can touch her like this again. Nikita's hips rock against his hand slowly. She doesn't want to rush this, she has waited so long to be with him like this again. Though his fingers are still gentle, Michael seems to gain more confidence as he starts pressing gentle kisses against Nikita's neck and whispering how good she feels, how he's missed her, how much he loves her. His deft fingers part her and stroke her mercilessly, only speeding up when she cries out in ecstasy. Two fingers enter her and she holds his arms to keep herself steady.

"Michael," she whispers breathlessly. He continues to torture her, always keeping her on the brink of orgasm. Her heart clenches painfully when she realises that he's trying to prove that he can do this again, that he is the only one who can make her feel this way. _You have nothing to prove, _she wants to whisper, but all she can manage is another cry of pleasure.

And she hasn't been this happy in months, because Michael is looking at her as if she is the most important thing in his life again. After months of tiptoeing around one another and his damn hand, everything is damn near perfect again.

Nikita finally falls over the edge and then he is lifting himself off of her to remove his trousers and then positioning himself at her entrance. When he penetrates her, Nikita's only thought is that she is finally home.

Hours later when they both collapse against one another in exhaustion, Nikita gently entwined her hand with Michael's new one and presses her lips against it before smiling tiredly at him.

It doesn't matter about the black box or Amanda or Division in that moment.

Michael is back, and that is all that matters.


End file.
